I spent some time out in the yard this weekend, pulling weeds. I now have a new found dislike for gardening and anything that requires me to bend over so that my head is below my heart. Actually, I realized my initial dislike for this physical position years ago when I was helping to tile a friend's house, but in this particular application of the technique, you can also flick dirt up in your face and get it lodged in your bra, which is even less fun.
While I was so engaged, I happened to notice The Caterpillar, who was out in the yard with me talking excitedly. I could see there was no one else around, so I ignored it for the most part. She's talking about eighty-five percent of the time, and she only expects people to respond half of that time. But at some point, her chatter started to sound a little less like a one-sided conversation so I tuned in and caught the pep talk she was giving the plants in the front flower bed:
"Great job, flowers. You are beautiful! And good job blooming, pink tulips! You look GREAT! And you, red tulips, you are also doing a really good job with your blooming too. You are making our yard look great! And you, yellow tulip... well, I don't know you're doing there, but good job, you!"
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